A storm raging inside my mind
by Vickysg1
Summary: Right this moment, Elizabeth was anything but calm and collected. Part 6 of the 'Through the Years' series.


**Disclaimer:** I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money; I just do it for fun.  
**Author's Note:** Written for my Sparktober Bingo Card #6 "IOA". It follows up the fics I've started to write for the same Bingo Card, and is part 6 of the 'Through the Years' series.

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To anyone who didn't know her, Elizabeth appeared calm and collected. But inside, she was far from that. Her meetings with the IOA were frustrating her, and on top of that, the night before, Simon told her that he wouldn't come to Atlantis with her. So, right this moment, she was anything but calm and collected. It was just a front she put up because she couldn't lose it in the SGC briefing room. But the more time passed, the more she heard Colonel Caldwell and the IOA representatives criticizing her people – Major Sheppard more than the others she noted – and her decisions, the closer she was to telling them exactly what was on her mind.

She wished she was anywhere but here. She wished she was still on Atlantis, and sometimes she even wished that they had never re-established contact with Earth. But that would have meant losing Atlantis and most probably their capacity to defend the people of Pegasus against the Wraith. If dealing with the IOA was the price they had to pay to continue their mission, then they would gladly pay it. They had a responsibility to these people.

When the meetings came to an end for the day, she felt relieved. She tried not to leave the briefing room in too much hurry; she certainly didn't want them to think that they had rattled her with all their criticism. She just wanted to go to the office they temporarily assigned to her and calm down. When she rounded the last corner, she saw that she wouldn't be left alone any time soon.

"John? What are you doing here?" she said to the man who stood before the door.

"I... I was just coming to see if you were done for the day, and if maybe you wanted to grab dinner," he replied. "So, do you?"

"I'm not really hungry right now."

Elizabeth opened the door to her office and walked inside. John followed and closed the door behind him. She put her things down on her desk before turning to face him. She was tired from her day, and she had no doubt he could see it on her face. She just hoped that he wouldn't ask how the meetings went, and he didn't. Instead, he surprised her with his next words.

"You look like you need to blow off some steam."

"Is it that bad?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I've learned to know you in the past months," he answered with a shrug. "Someone else might not be able to pick up the signs."

He was right of course. He was probably the person who knew her the most on Atlantis, and it came in handy at times. She liked to think that she knew him too, even though she couldn't always predict his reaction like he could predict hers. But they knew each other enough to be able to understand each other without words, and when the other needed to be left alone. It was no surprise that he was able to read her today too.

"I could actually do with blowing off some steam as you put it. Do you have a suggestion?" she asked.

"Meet me in the gym in ten."

He left her office without giving her time to answer; it didn't seem to matter to him whether she agreed or not. She shook her head and bit back a smile, even though he couldn't see her. With just a few words, he had already made her feel a bit better. The tension from the day was still there, but she was confident that with a good workout, it would melt away.

Knowing that if she was just one minute late, John would tease her mercilessly – she was known for her punctuality in Atlantis, after all – she didn't waste any time leaving her office. She stopped by her quarters to change and, with a couple of minutes to spare, she entered the gym. She easily spotted John on one side of the room. It was dinnertime, and aside from a couple of marines running on the treadmill or lifting weights, they had the room mostly to themselves.

She walked towards him and stopped just a couple of feet away. He had changed into his gym clothes, too, and she wondered what he had planned for her. She looked at him expectantly, but he surprised her with his next words.

"So, where do you want to start?" he asked, motioning to the room at large.

She had truly thought that he would already have everything ready for her, but he was leaving the choice up to her. She looked around the room, trying to decide what would help her unwind the best.

"I'm feeling partial to the punching bag," she replied, turning back towards him.

"Good then."

That it was on the opposite side of the room from where the marines were was only a bonus. She believed that she might need some privacy during this session. She didn't need other people wondering what was going on.

"You should probably put these on," he said, handing her a pair of boxing gloves he took out of his gym bag. "You wouldn't want to hurt your hands."

"You came prepared I see."

"Always. Have you ever done this?" he asked as she stood before the punching bag.

"No, but I guess it's not that difficult. You just throw a punch at it, right?"

"That's one way of doing it, yes. But you have to be careful if you don't want to injure yourself. Here, let me show you."

She startled when she felt his hands on her waist. She refused to admit – even to herself – that she shivered when his thumb brushed her skin where her top had ridden up. He corrected her position, one hand sliding down to her thigh to coax her to move her leg back.

When his hands left her, she felt bereft for a moment, before composing herself. He went to stand behind the punching bag, steadying it with his body.

"Come on now, Elizabeth. Show me what you got," he said with a smile.

She took a breath, and started to hit the punching bag. Despite her best efforts, though, John barely had to hold it in place. It looked like she was barely touching it while she felt like she gave everything each time. It was a bit frustrating, and after the day she had, she wasn't looking for more frustration. She stopped and blew a strand of hair out of her face. John must have read the frustration on her face, and he look at her from behind the punching bag.

"Ok. That was good, but it could be better. Here's a useful trick: just picture someone's face on the punching bag. Think that you're trying to punch the lights out of them. I know you're not for violence, but..."

He stopped, as the punch Elizabeth threw at the bag was stronger than her previous ones. He had to block the punching bag to prevent it from knocking into him. When it didn't look like she was about to hit the bag again, he looked at her again.

"Wow! Who was that for?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she replied, smiling.

She wasn't about to tell him that she saw Colonel Caldwell's face when she punched the bag. That would require explanations she wasn't ready to give, yet. John didn't need to know what was going on during the briefings, and that they didn't trust him as military commander of Atlantis. At least, not when she planned to convince them that they were wrong about him.

"That wasn't me, was it?" he asked, worry in his voice.

"Why would it be you? What have you done?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Nothing," he answered, holding his hands up in defence. "But I thought you might still be mad at me for the things I've done in the past."

"I'm not," she reassured him. "We've set things straight every single time, there's no reason for me to be mad at you."

"Good. I'm glad about that. I hope we can keep things this way."

"You plan to defy my orders again?"

"That's not what I said... I just... I meant..."

"I know what you meant. Now, can we get back to it?" she asked, gesturing towards the punching bag.

"Of course," he said, putting his hands back on the bag to steady it.

Elizabeth positioned herself the way he showed her to – all the while shutting out that treacherous little voice that told her to make a mistake so that he could help her again – and started punching the bag again. It wasn't always Caldwell's face she was imagining on the bag; it changed to the faces of the IOA representatives and even Kavanagh's once, as he was partially responsible for all this.

She had no idea how long they continued; she only stopped when she was starting having trouble catching her breath. She took a step back and brushed wet strands of hair out of her face. John handed her a bottle of water and she nodded at him in thanks, unable to speak for the moment.

"You're feeling any better?" he asked her when he saw she was able to breathe properly again.

"Yes, much. Thank you, John."

"My pleasure."

"Would you like to grab something to eat?" she repeated the offer he had made when he first came into her office.

"Sure. But you should probably go change first. And have a shower, too," he added as an afterthought.

"Are you telling me that I stink?"

She watched as he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to find a way to reply to her that wouldn't earn him a punch in the stomach. He came up empty, and she took pity on him.

"That's alright, John. You're right. Meet you in the mess hall in half an hour?"

"It's a date."

Fin


End file.
